“That’s not what I said.”
“But it is what you meant, Westin.”
He sighed and opened his mouth to pile on more lies, but Heath was done listening. Holding up a hand, he stood and moved toward the hatch leading below deck. “Don’t. Go play with your friends and leave me alone.”
sixteen
. . .
Evan wouldn’t say his interest in sailing had changed significantly, but Nate’s yacht was coming dangerously close to improving its appeal.
As it turned out, there was a certain thrill to being out on the open water, aboard a top-of-the-line yacht, with people you actually liked. The feeling of being entirely alone in the world—just you, the salt air, and the meditative sound of waves slapping against the hull—was a little soul-cleansing.
Assuming he still had a soul. He hadn’t been certain at the start of all this, and he could guess what the answer would be if anyone asked his aggrieved husband. The last few days on the island had awakened something, though. A multitude of somethings. Including a few he was avoiding looking at too closely.
“Want to give it a try?” Nate asked, indicating the starboard wheel.
Evan cringed. “I warned you this isn’t my forte, right?”
“You did, but she can literally helm herself, so we’ll both look good.”
Nate’s laugh was reassuring enough to coax Evan into settling behind the sleek silver wheel, and damned if he didn’tenjoy the feeling of the vessel eagerly cutting through the waves in response to his gentle suggestions.
He glanced at the console in front of him, the tablet-sized screen displaying their direction and speed. “We have a destination, or are you just following the wind?”
Nate abandoned his station and looked out over the water, gesturing to two small islands in the distance. “There’s a little cove there. Great spot to drop anchor and kill a few hours.”
Evan followed Nate’s direction with a nod. Tension stiffened the muscles of his neck and shoulders. He shrugged them down and away from his ears and reminded himself the Spencers were nothing like his family. They’d been warm and inviting from the first hello, without an ounce of judgment. Which was why he was a colossal jackass for implying they wouldn’t give two shits about Heath after the vacation was over.
Jesus, why had he said that? If the idea of taking his hands off the wheel didn’t make him nauseated, he’d face-palm just thinking about the look on Heath’s face. His reluctant husband was right. There wasn’t any other way to take it, and he’d lost all the ground he’d made with Heath by opening his stupid mouth and playing into his already gargantuan bias.
Had he forgotten that not everyone was like his family? Apparently, yes. Between his friends, coworkers, and clients, he was constantly surrounded by people only looking out for their own self-interest. People who wouldn’t have given Heath the time of day in the first place. People he’d spent most of his life trying to be better than.
Was he, though? Or was he just an upgraded version of the same asshole?
As it was, he kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. For someone to snap their fingers and shout,Oh! You’re the charity case Charlie took in. I’ve heard about you.That wasn’t how he wanted to close out the week, with his dirty laundry on everyone’s lips until he walked into the room.
If Nate dealt with his family at all, he hadn’t mentioned it, and for that, Evan was eternally grateful. His father certainly did business in Manhattan, so it was likely they moved in the same circles, but dear ol’ dad rarely made personal appearances these days. He had his golden ticket for that. Evan’s brother handled the boardroom bullshit while Chuck sat on his throne waiting for a call so he could yea or nay suggestions.
“I hope you’re not expecting me to navigate into the gap.”
The hairs on the back of Evan’s neck raised at Nate’s answering smile. “You’ll be fine. It’s deeper than it looks, and not as rocky as the main island. Just aim dead center and I’ll handle the sails.”
Evan thought back to being out on his father’s eighty-footer. It was a vintage model that required significantly more manpower than Nate’s technical powerhouse, and therefore required a captain who knew the outhaul from the gooseneck.
His brothers all handled the helm as though they’d been born aboard, but Evan had never gotten a feel for it. His father had still insisted on dragging him out every chance he’d had, and at first, Evan had convinced himself that success would prove he belonged. Maybe even gain him some favor with the stranger he’d been sent to live with. Later, he’d recognized it for what it was. One more opportunity to prove his bad breeding.
“Take us in, kid,” his father had ordered, clasping Evan’s shoulder like a harpy.
He’d declined and felt the grasp tighten as his brothers goaded him. It wasn’t as if he’d never done it before, but this was peak season and it was early evening. Everyone had returned from their day, and there were so many fucking boats.
He’d caved to the pressure and taken over, with hands shaking much like they were now. The bastard hadn’t said a word. He’d let Evan panic until the sickening sound of crunching wood and fiberglass broke through the stillness. Then he’d said plenty.
His father’s furious voice had risen above the gulls and the din of the other club members enjoying dinner and drinks aboard their floating money pits. Evan remembered the looks they’d gotten, and the other boat’s owners beside themselves over the damage. That was the last time he’d gone sailing with them. A silver lining, even if it meant becoming his stepmother’s errand boy.
A similar dread pressed in from all sides as the islands grew closer and the channel into the cove seemed to shrink in size. His chest felt heavy, and his throat tightened until spots danced in his vision. The muscles in his legs twitched with the need to flee.
It was stupid. He knew it was stupid. The boat’s response was so fine that he was just barely moving the wheel, and Nate had already pulled in the sails, so they moved at a crawl. There was no reason to be worried, yet the fear of failure and humiliation choked him.
